Indigo, Aurelia

I wished for twins. And then they arrived.

My daughters, two shades of beauty, of love.

One blue, one gold.

I looked at your first photo, a black and white sonogram.

What are you two doing here, I asked knowing I had summoned you.

I was too afraid to hope that you would still bloom.

After the miscarriage, the cross country moves, the bouganvillea in remembrance.

It was then I had to believe in my own magical realism.

Like my mom and her mom, I could will seeds of hope into existence.

The motherline, a river that flows through deserts to rainforests, now sparkles in you my little loves.

A woman homes her eggs, ingredients for her would be grandchildren.

A new potion of ancient genes.

I conjured you, but you are your own magic.